


Wallflower

by ProfessorFlimflam



Series: Flora Holbiensis [1]
Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 19:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlimflam/pseuds/ProfessorFlimflam
Summary: In which Bernie chooses the worst possible place to hide from Serena.





	Wallflower

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another tip of the hat to the charity fundraiser trope. Their intimate moment after Fletch's surgery was interrupted before anything happened, and things haven't been right since. Dom drags Bernie along to Holby City Pride, and Serena bares her soul to Ric...

It was hardly her idea of a good night out, but a promise was a promise, and she had promised Dr Copeland that she would be there for him. More specifically, she had meant as a second when he felt strong enough to face down Isaac Mayfield. She had been sorry to have missed the almighty showdown on the ward a few weeks earlier that had left Dom bruised, broken and in tears but with his head held high, and Isaac with his ugly ego on full view, the suave charm stripped away at last.

Bernie was so very proud of Dominic, and so wished that she had been there to see Isaac’s comeuppance - she had promised Dom that she would be there if he needed her, but he had found the strength to end things with Isaac once and for all, and in such a public way that even if he were to think about going back to the toxic relationship, there would be always be someone who now knew the truth about what Mayfield had put him through, and who would talk sense into him. And much as she would have like to see Mayfield’s downfall, she was even prouder of Dom for going it alone.

So she was taken aback when Dom had texted her:

_Get your glad rags out Ms Wolfe, time to make good on your promise_

A rooftop conference had been convened at their earliest mutual convenience.

“Duty discharged, Mr Copeland. I had your back - it’s just that you didn’t need me. Turns out you’re more macho than this old army medic.” She punched his arm lightly, still proud of the way he had carried himself.

“Exactly - I didn’t need you, so you haven’t had a chance to keep your promise yet, and as a woman of honour, I know that will be keeping you awake. And as it happens, I’ve got just the opportunity for you to pay your debt. Hansen asked me and Isaac to go to the Holby City Pride bollocks next Friday, but obviously, I now have a plus one ticket at my disposal - and while I absolutely shall go to the ball, blowed if I’m going on my own.”

Bernie looked at him blankly.

“Holby City Pride? The hospital has its own gay pride festival?”

“Hardly a festival!” He snorted. “It’s a bit of rainbow bunting in the foyer and the same old, same old fundraising nonsense - it's just that the funds go to the Terrence Higgins Trust instead of hospital coffers this time. And the good news for you is that Isaac’s already paid for the tickets - hideously over-priced even for a charity shindig, I have to say - which I have in my locker, so you don’t even need to pay for the privilege of being my arm candy for a night. Men have killed for less.”

She looked narrowly at him - she, more than anyone at Holby, knew this to be true: had seen men killed for a few feet of land, for printing a flyer, for making eye contact, for having the wrong name, for being born. And, indeed, for being gay. Which was why, to her own horror, she heard herself saying “Well, I suppose it’s for a good cause…”

***

“Why did I let you talk me into this? I'm in actual hell.”

Bernie gazed desperately around the room, every element of which was bedecked in rainbows - flags, tablecloths, bunting - even the chairs had rainbows slipcovers, and a huge rainbow arched over the platform at the front of the room, a sure sign that they would be treated to a slew of worthy speeches later on.

“Oh, cheer up, Ms Wolfe. It’s fine. Well, it’s not - it’s awful. But never mind the decor, just think of the free booze and the charming company. And keep your eyes open - you never know, you might meet someone… more to your tastes, if you catch my drift. It’s high time you came out of your shell and got over your little soldier friend. Come on, let's find you a lovely butch nurse in sensible shoes.”

“No thanks, Dom - one, I’ve been over Alex for ages, and two, I’m not looking for anyone. I’m perfectly happy in my own company, and if I do decide to find someone - well, I’m perfectly capable of finding them on my own.”

 _Except the one person I’ve managed to find on my own is as straight as a Roman Road_ , she thought.

Dom sniffed. “Your funeral. Lets at least get Isaac’s money’s worth out of this sorry affair. Champagne and canapés at four o’clock.” So saying, he veered off towards the nearest table and expertly scooped up a glass and several bite-sized delicacies. Bernie trailed after him half-heartedly and helped herself to a glass, but balked at the cupcakes with - how original - rainbow icing. Leaning against the table, she took a moment to survey the room. At Dom’s insistence, they had arrived fashionably late (she hadn't minded that in the least - the less time they spent here the better, as far as she was concerned), and the room was crowded with the great and good - Hanssen, most of the board and trustees, quite a few people she didn’t recognise wearing the purple and white t-shirts of the THT, and a whole slew of colleagues from Wyvern and the rest of the hospital. She was intrigued to see who had turned up: a number of people whom she had known or suspected might be gay, a fair few whom she knew were not - _straight allies_ , she had had to remind Dominic, not _breeders_. Some genuinely were straight allies, wanting to show their support to the hospital’s LGBT community as well as to the charity, but some, she was fairly certain, were there solely for the booze and gossip.

Lowering her gaze to the floor, Bernie allowed herself a tiny smile. Dom hadn't been wrong about the sensible shoes. She sighed. She didn't know that she particularly wanted to pursue any of the many butch nurses Holby evidently employed (was there a specialist agency?), but maybe it was time she got back out there. Not at work though - definitely not anyone that her colleagues knew - most definitely not anyone Serena knew. She shuddered at the thought of being part of the hospital’s regular diet of gossip and speculation, but worst of all, she couldn’t imagine being with anyone who might come between her and Serena - professionally, of course. Neither of them needed that kind of distraction, she told herself, choosing not to look too closely at how a romantic relationship with a colleague from another department could possible affect her working relationship with her co-lead - it was just a non-starter, all right? And their relationship had been damaged badly enough by the very fact of her previous relationship with Alex: Bernie really didn't want to aggravate things between them by causing any more speculation on the wards, however much water had flowed under the bridge since then. She still couldn't forget the look on Serena's face as she had learned about Bernie’s clandestine affair with the army anaesthetist, and even though she knew intellectually that Serena’s disapproval and disappointment had only been about the fact of the affair, not about her sexuality, she had noticed that Serena had developed a certain reticence to discuss matters of the heart with Bernie since then.

She knew Serena wasn’t homophobic - far from it - but perhaps this had been a little too close to home, and it felt as though she was less comfortable sharing her office with Bernie than before she had been outed. And with some grounds, whether she knew it or not. How uncomfortable would Serena be, she wondered, if she knew quite how much her colleague thought about her, thought about those moments after Fletch’s surgery when time had seemed to stand still as they shared that intense look into each other’s eyes before Lou had come into the room to clear up. Bernie thanked Lou silently now for saving her from making a disastrous mistake. She had been a heartbeat away from leaning in and kissing Serena, but that particular crisis had been averted.

She gave an irritable shiver, as if to shake off her gloomy thoughts, and drained her glass. She helped herself to another and looked round for Dom, who was by now deep in animated conversation with one of the campest nurses, she had ever seen - quite an accolade, really - and left him to it. She gravitated back to the side of the room, where enormous rainbow flags hung draped like curtains, billowing slightly in the breeze from the open windows. A spot of people-watching, she thought, stay for the speeches, then slip away if Dom seemed all right on his own - and he seemed very all right at the moment, she thought, as she saw Nurse Camp-As-Tits slide his hand around Dom’s waist - and a little lower again.

She let her eye rove around he room. God, some of the Board members looked uncomfortable. What a lot of posturing and unnecessary mentions of wives and girlfriends - and really, they were in absolutely no danger of being molested by even the most predatory of homosexuals (who was far more interested in Dr Copeland…). She was surprised and pleased to se some of her Wyvern colleagues, though. Sacha was flirting harmlessly with one of Dom’s butch nurses: evidently, they felt perfectly safe in each other’s company. Zosia, looking as glamorous as ever in a black evening gown with a split that went on for ever was deep in conversation with someone who looked oddly like Jac Naylor from the back, and even butch-as-fuck Rocky Griffin himself was here, looking surprisingly comfortable in this very mixed company.

“Ric!” she called, giving him a little wave. He smiled at her and was about to make his way across the room to join her, when a hand crooked his elbow, and over the rumble of chatter in the hall, Bernie heard an unmistakable voice take him to task. “Where d’you think you're going without me, Griffin? You need me to protect you from all these handsome boys and girls.”

Bernie’s eyes widened as she realised that Serena was a) here, b) hanging on Ric Griffin’s arm, and c) coming over, not having noticed who Ric was waving at. _Shit_ _!_ This was officially a Big Gay Panic. If Serena wasn’t comfortable being in the office alone with Bernie, how much more awkward would it be having to make small talk at an event the sole purpose of which was to make people think gay thoughts. Without thinking twice, Bernie slipped behind one of the drapes, making sure her shoes weren’t poking out, and leaned back against the wall so she could keep as still as possible, for as long as possible. For Major Wolfe, even hiding from her crush was a military manoeuvre.

From her vantage point behind the curtain, Bernie tried not to listen… for a bit. But she could never willingly block her ears to that gorgeous voice, as rich as wine and twice as intoxicating.

“What was so important you had to drag me over here without my wineglass?”

Ric sounded puzzled. “Well, Bernie called me over, but I don’t know where she’s got to now - she was here a second ago.” Through the gauzy fabric of the flag, Bernie could just about make out Ric’s figure twist as he scanned the room. _Ha!_ she thought, _Hello backlighting, my old friend_. The wall she leant against was windowless, and she was confident that she couldn't be seen.

“Oh - Bernie’s here, is she?” Was it her imagination, or was Serena's voice a little higher, a little tighter than usual? “I haven’t seen her - but I suppose she would be here, wouldn't she, what with - everything and - well, it's, you know, isn't it? Though I don't imagine it's her idea of a good night out, all this, this - all this.” Through the veil of her hiding place, Bernie saw a sweeping gesture which took in the room in all its horrible technicolor glory, all the schmoozing, all the blatant, open happiness and confidence. Serena knew her well - really not her sort of thing at all, she though bitterly.

“You’re rambling Serena. What’s got into you, other than half a bottle of fizz - and counting?”

“It would be a darn sight more than half a bottle by now if you hadn’t dragged me away from my drink. And nothing's got into me, I’m just full of _gay_ abandon.” She laughed a little too loudly at her own lame joke, nerves evident.

“Serena Campbell, are you trying to tell me something?” Bernie could practically hear the teasing glint in Ric’s eye. “Has your boring policeman turned you off men and towards the Bi Side?”

“No! No, it’s not like that, it’s not Robbie’s fault, it’s -” Serena stopped abruptly, realising that she had betrayed herself to the worst possible person.

“Aha! So you’re not just here to be right on - you're here in a more… _personal_ capacity. I’m right, aren’t I? I always knew you had it in you, Campbell! All that flirting and winking at all the girls - I knew it wasn’t just for show! So if it wasn’t Robbie the Bobby, who did the damage? Your insatiable friend Sîan? Or has Dr Copeland been recruiting? Or - oh, no, I know what’s happened here: you've succumbed to a bit of military discipline, haven't you? That’s it, isn’t it, cooped up in the office with the gallant Major, she’s… ahem… rubbed off on you!”

The blood roared in Bernie’s ears. She could hardly make sense of everything that she was hearing. Serena was gay? Bi? Something - not quite a Roman Road after all. But - _oh, God Ric, why are you doing this? Why do you hate me? Just stop talking!_ She was so flustered she almost missed Serena’s sharp reply.

“Leave Bernie out of it Ric, I’m not kidding. She’s the last person who'd want me making eyes at her - and you can definitely leave your double entendres at home, thank you very much. She’d be horrified if she knew I felt that way about her. Things have been so awkward since that bloody woman opened her trap about Bernie and that anaesthetist, and I was so awful to her - she barely speaks to me any more. I don’t blame her, either.” There was genuine distress in Serena’s voice now, and Ric softened his own.

“So it is Bernie. I should have known. You two were as thick as thieves, and then suddenly you started keeping other at arm’s length and being so _polite_ to each other. I thought it was just two ambitious women finding the ward not quite big enough for the both of them, but I can see it now. Oh, Serena, my friend, you're a prize fool. Haven’t you seen the way she looks at you? She's like a whipped puppy, she so wants you to like her, but she’s so afraid of being rejected again.”

Holding her breath, Bernie risked a peek through a gap in the drapes. Her heart broke as she saw Serena’s frightened face, her eyes wide, her lips set firm to stop them trembling.

“It's no good, Ric. As far as she knows, I’m straight, just a friend, if I’m even that any more. Things were better for a while before Fletch was hurt, but after that... I told her how wonderful I thought she was, and she just pulled away from me - couldn’t put distance between us quickly enough. And did you see Army Barbie? She must be twenty years younger than me, at least. Bernie doesn’t want an old hag like me, not when she’s got all these action women to pick from.” There were definitely tears in Serena’s voice now, and somehow they were rolling down Bernie’s cheek, too.

Ric was firmer now. “That’s not you talking, Serena, that’s your bloody mother doing you down from beyond the grave. ‘Old hag’ - honestly. I refer m’colleague to the nearest available mirror. You’re a fine woman, Serena - and you know it. Stop wallowing in self pity and do something about this mess. Just talk to Bernie, will you? If you don’t, I will.”

“No, Ric, don’t. Don’t do that. I’ll talk to her, I will, I just need some time to think about it all. Even if I can just have my friend back, I know we need to sort things out. Oh, God I need a drink!”

Ric laughed. “Now there's the Serena Campbell I know! Stay here, get your composure back and I’ll go and get you another drink. If I see Bernie…?”

“If you see Bernie, don't say anything. I can’t see her, tonight, I just can’t, it’s too much.”

As Ric turned away, shaking his head, Serena suddenly felt a firm hand grasp her wrist, pulling her behind the curtain, and all at once she was looking into Bernie’s shining eyes.

“I can see you, though, Serena. I think I can see you better than ever.”

They stood like that for some moments, each breathlessly trying to read the other.

“Is it true?” Bernie ventured at last. “You really… like me?”

“I more than like you!” Serena laughed shakily. “God, couldn’t you tell? I’ve felt as though it's been written on my heart since that awful day with Fletch. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, what I said then, or what I feel. I know you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry, I don't want things to be awkward between us, but they have been anyway, and I just want things to be _better_. Can’t we be friends, at least? Can you forget you heard all this self-pitying nonsense?” She looked earnestly into Bernie’s eyes, gripping her hands tightly between them.

Bernie shook her head slowly. “I don't think I can forget it, Serena.” Serena’s face fell, and she blinked back tears. Bernie tugged at heir joined hands. “I can’t forget it, and I’m going to need you to keep saying it again and again. Serena, I’ve thought of nothing, no-one but you for months now. When Fletch… when you said what you did, I was so close to telling you - showing you how I felt about you. If we hadn’t been interrupted, I would have kissed you there and then, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. And then after that, I couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle, but I was so scared of letting you know how I felt. You were straight, there was Robbie - Ric’s right, by the way, he’s so _very_ boring - and even when you didn’t, people only ever talk about Edward, and Angus, and - who on earth is Buttons, by the way? - and how was I supposed to know you were anything other than Straighty McStraightface? And for the love of God, I don’t think I've ever spoken this many words all in one go before so please do stop me whenever you like, because I don't seem to able to stop mysel - mmmff.”

And Serena stopped her in the only way she could think of. Their lips met, her hand hovering for a moment before slipping through Bernie’s hair to cup the back of her neck, bringing them even closer together. Serena smiled into the kiss, and Bernie took the opportunity to slide her tongue along Serena’s full bottom lip before biting it gently.

Serena’s smile as they parted took Bernie’s breath away. Had she put that there? But then it was replaced with a puzzled frown.

“Bernie, what were you doing behind the curtain?” Bernie had the grace to look sheepish (it was a well-practiced expression for her). “Oh my God - you were hiding - from _me_? Have I understood this properly - you were hiding, from me, because you're gay, again, for me?”

Bernie nodded, scratching the back of her neck where she could still feel Serena's touch.

“Bernie. Darling. You do realise you were attempting to hide your gayness behind a rainbow flag?”

“Call me _darling_ again.”

“As many times as you like, my darling. You pillock. My _darling_ pillock.”

“Straighty McStraightface.”

“Am not!”

“Well, good. Prove it.”

Serena pulled at the lapels of Bernie’s jacket to do exactly that, when they heard Ric’s voice in an unwelcome interruption.

“Here we are - champagne for the lady. Serena? Serena? Oh, for goodness sake, I can see you, you know.”

Bernie looked pointedly down at Serena’s unmistakeable leopard print shoes, which were protruding beyond the bottom of the flag. “You’ve blown our cover, Corporal.”

“Corporal? Colonel at least, if you please, if not Brigadier! I'm nobody’s subordinate officer.”

“Serena, are you coming out or not?” Serena’s sparking eyes met Bernie’s as they stifled a laugh at Ric’s choice of words.

“Do you know, Ric, I rather think I am.” And so saying, Serena swept the rainbow flag aside dramatically, holding Bernie’s hand firmly with her head held high as they emerged into the room, with Bernie’s great honk of a laugh as a fanfare. Dom’s eyes widened, then he smirked and gave Bernie a sloppy salute.

“You’ll need to work on the sensible shoes,” he whispered, and Bernie blinked as he kissed her sweetly on the cheek. She looked around at the smiling faces of her colleagues, none of whom seemed very surprised by this turn of events. Accepting a glass of champagne from a smug looking Ric Griffin, she reflected that maybe rainbow flags weren't quite so bad after all.


End file.
